Never Die
by infantilejoy
Summary: A one-part story in which James Howlett learns who his one true love is. CONTAINS "LOGAN" SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I would love some feedback on this, so don't be shy! Disclaimer: I do not own any X-Men or any other Marvel Studios, Sony Motion Pictures, or Fox Entertainment-related characters, images, names, or the likes; they belong to their sole companies.


Laura crosses her arms and looks out at all the desert passing by her window. "Tú eres muy antipàtico y un mal padre," (1) she mutters quickly.

"What are you saying? I heard _padre_. What are you saying about me?" Logan asks angrily.

Laura rolls her eyes, knowing her father can't see it under her glasses. "Tú. Eres. Muy. Antipático. Y. Un. Mal. Padre." She spits out each word like poison.

"That doesn't fucking help!" He slams his hands up against the steering wheel. "You _can_ speak English. I've heard you." He looks over at the young girl who sits silently in the corner of her seat farthest from him. "What? What have I done? What did I do to you? Nothing, all right? Nothing."

"Estas de mal humor." (2)

"Jesus, would you leave me alone?"

"Jesús, ¿deja de fastidiarme por Dios?" (3) She repeats in a mocking tone. "Te lo juro por Dios," she mutters under her breath. (4)

The car goes silent as they both realize that for the first time, they don't have a mediator. No Charles to make them stop. No wise Professor X to point out the window at pretty birds that would make them go quiet.

A single tear slips from Laura's eye and she turns towards the closed window just as it escapes the protective wall of her sunglasses. She feels like a fraud; she hadn't known Charles for very long, but he felt like more of a father to her than Logan ever would.

She also feels like Logan's constant anger was her fault.

Knowing that he wouldn't understand, she asks him just that. "Yo tengo la culpa, ¿correcto? ¿Yo tengo la culpa de enfado de tú?" (5)

His eyebrows shoot straight up. " _Correcto?_ Correct what?" He looks over at her with a noticeably softened look on his face. "Talk to me." It comes out as a harsh demand, but they both have a sneaking suspicion he didn't mean it like that.

Searching for the English words she was taught years ago, Laura takes her sunglasses off and wipes the tear from her face. "My fault?" She asks simply, turning around to face him.

" _Your fault_ what?"

"Hate me." She says softly, almost not wanting to know his answer.

His lips part, but no words come out. Instead he sighs and pulls over to the side of the one-lane dirt road they'd been traveling for countless miles.

 _Of course it's her fault_ , he thinks. But a second thought crosses his mind briefly, betraying his thoughts' stone-cold, protective cover. _Neither of us had a say in her creation_.

"Come with me," he says softly. Her head turns as she looks at him, and for the first time, he notices how much the tear-stained face really does look like his.

But the Wolverine doesn't cry. The Wolverine doesn't bleed. The Wolverine heals up and moves on. That's all he's ever done.

But the Wolverine has transformed into an old man. An old man who _does_ bleed. An old man who _doesn't_ heal up. That's what he's been reduced to: Old Man Logan.

He gets out of the car and opens her door. A big hand shoots out, reaching for another hand. A small one catches it.

He leads her out to a flat-topped boulder where they sit in silence, watching as the sun slips right out of the sky. They watch as orange fades to blue, then to purple, then finally to black. A shiver runs through the young Laura, sending fear through her bones. She'd been cold before, but she'd never been without something to keep her warm.

But she's wrong- oh so wrong- because the burly Logan scoops her up into his lap and she settles into his arms as the best apology acceptance she can muster.

"Tengo miedo, Papá. I am scared." (6)

An arm wraps around her securely. "And I'm sorry, Laura." Metal slowly slides out from in between the fingers on his other hand. For a moment she fears he'll kill her, but he offers a smile and lets his hand rest on his knee. She knows he'll protect her and lets her mind rest.

Just when he thinks she's asleep, her eyes open and he finds himself staring into a vast darkness of brown, lost in the eyes he'd seen in the mirror too many times.

"¿Nunca morir? Never die?" (7)

Her wandering eyes seem lost as they search his face for confirmation that he'll never leave her for good. He commits one last sin against his daughter. He lies to her brown hair, he lies to her chattering teeth, he lies to her brown irises, he lies to the daughter he never got to watch grow up, the daughter he'll never _get_ to watch grow up.

"Never die, Laura."  
_

(1) You're very unkind and a bad father.  
(2) You're in a bad mood.  
(3) _Repeating what he said._  
(4) I swear to God.  
(5) It's my fault, right? It's my fault you're angry?  
(6) I'm scared/I have fear, Dad.  
(7) Never to die?


End file.
